In The Cold
by Noelerin
Summary: An Answer to a one hour challenge. Please, R & R. Thanks and an epilogue added.
1. In The Cold

In The Cold  
  
Moonlight entered a room through the window on the far side, bathing the room in its silvery glow. Eowyn rose from the bed and pulled on her robe aware of the slight chill in the air. With a sigh, she walked towards it, looking at the gardens below. Behind her, the figure slept on undisturbed. Her hand rested against the frame and she sighed again. What was wrong with her? Why the uneasiness inside?  
  
Sitting down on the seat, her back rested against the frame. As she sat there, she slowly examined her thoughts and feelings, trying to get to the heart of her problem. Glancing at her hand and the ring that now rested there, she was forced to admit that the problem was him. Aragorn-King Evenstar. Her husband. It was all so new to her, so strange.  
  
Of all the things she had expected as an outcome of the battle, this was not one of them. Marriage to him was the last thing she had intended. For the moment, it was a marriage in name only. He had agreed that it would be for her peace of mind. But how long would the people be satisfied with that? Why did this have to happen at all?  
  
Wrapping her arms around her legs, she rested her head against her knees and looked at the night sky. Don't get me wrong, I care for him. I think I could even grow out of the infatuation I started with into real love, but this was no way to begin. This whole marriage was a complete and utter falsehood thrust upon them both.  
  
And why had he allowed it? You would never convince her that he couldn't have stopped this whole thing. He was their king after all. He had also saved them from the encroaching darkness and would lead this new age with grace and dignity.  
  
Then there was something else that bothered her. Wasn't he supposed to be in love with...oh, what was her name, that Elven princess he grew up with? If that was true, then why had he seemed less burdened when they took their vows? So deep in thought was she that she didn't hear the stirring behind her.  
  
Aragorn reached out for her but met nothing. Frowning, he opened his eyes to find the bed empty. Looking around, he saw her at the window and got up, joining her. Wrapping his arms around her, he rested his head against hers and ignored her slight jump. "It's cold. What are you doing up, Eowyn?"  
  
"Thinking." She quietly said. Her body didn't listen to her mind and rested against his muscular form, relishing the contact and warmth.  
  
"About?" He gently pried, though he was pretty sure he knew.  
  
She shrugged, unwilling to speak of her fears.  
  
The gentle hand of her husband cupped her chin and turned her face towards his. Eyes met and held. His free hand grasped hers and raised it until her wedding band and his were before her eyes. "Was it this?" He asked before entwining their hands as one.  
  
Eowyn felt unable to hold that steady gaze and looked away.  
  
"Don't turn away from me, Eowyn." He pleaded softly, sitting down by her. "I've been cold long enough."  
  
"You cold? With all your experiences?" Her free hand moved to rest against his heart.  
  
"Why does that surprise you, my morning star?" He asked. "I have loved and been loved. But I have never been let inside. I was always in doubt, always wondering, always left out in the cold-until you. That's why I couldn't let you go, when you were wounded in battle."  
  
Eyes widened with wonder for she could hear the truth in his words. She colored with shame, uncertain that she could ever feel the same way for him. "I cannot begin to speak of what I feel for you. I do not know if I care for you like that. My life has been so sheltered, this is the farthest from home I have ever been. And the only male affection I have ever known-save yours and Faramir's-was from that horrible Wormtongue."  
  
"Do not speak that creature's name." He spoke harshly. "He was no more worthy of your attention than I sometimes feel myself to be."  
  
"That's not true!" She exclaimed, squeezing his hand. "You are wonderful. Everything a king should be. If anyone is unworthy here, it is I."  
  
"Now you are letting him speak." It was a gentle, but forceful, chiding. "He feared you for he truly saw what you were capable of. Were that I had been so observant."  
  
"Stop it." Now it was her turn to chide him. "Wormtongue had time to observe me, he did not have lives hanging in the balance as you did."  
  
"Eowyn, you're truly unique."  
  
"As are you." She was blushing as she admitted it.  
  
He stood, tugging her hand. She willingly followed him back to the bed and curled into his arms. With her head on his chest, she let his steady heartbeat lull to sleep. Aragorn followed her into slumber after a while, feeling the sun in his life for the first time in a while.  
  
Part 2:  
  
Eowyn strolled through the garden, an arm resting on her rounded belly. A soft smile graced her face as she felt the baby kick. Shaking her head in bemusement, she went on her way. Behind her, Faramir went inside. Probably to tell Aragorn that I'm out here on my own. Oh, horrors, she thought with loving exasperation.  
  
Sighing, she waited patiently under the newly planted trees that Legolas and Gimli had brought before they left on another one of their travels. A twinge of envy filled her before she stamped it down harshly. I love my husband, I really do. But sometimes I wish that we lived an ordinary life, able to just pack up and go whenever the mood strikes us.   
  
She knew that he felt the same way, often she'd see wanderlust in his eyes before he remembered who he was. Of course, she thought with an ironic smile, if we were ordinary, we would never have met and married.  
  
Aragorn watched her silently, admiring how the pale moonlight streamed through the branches and haloed her in its silvery glow. He observed the serenity in her face and knew that it masked a fire that, while dampened, was not extinguished. In all truthfulness, he didn't want it to be-no matter how uncomfortable it made his advisors.  
  
Right now, he could tell that the fire was directed at the way they were treating her. And he didn't blame her. Though he'd tried to assure Faramir that she'd be fine on her own, he'd finally yielded to his steward's pleas. He watched her reach up and smell the blossoms on the tree. In this moment, she was unguarded and he couldn't help but fall in love all over again.  
  
"Evening." He greeted, voice husky with emotion.  
  
She smiled wryly at him, extending her hand in welcome. "I see that my watchdog has found you. Honestly, husband, both of you should realize that I can take care of myself."  
  
"Don't be so angry with him, he doesn't want you to come to harm."  
  
"Me or the heir?" She asked, patting her stomach.  
  
He frowned, but it wasn't in anger. "Aren't you being a trifle unfair to him?"  
  
"Am I?" She asked, rhetorically. "All I ever hear about anymore is how to take care of the child. How I need to be careful of the child. How I shouldn't do something because it could harm the baby. I'm followed constantly. What I do, where I go, who I visit is under intense study. Even the food I eat is carefully monitored. No one notices me anymore. All anyone ever sees is some brood mare." Her words ended on a sigh.  
  
"I do." Aragorn said softly, cupping her cheek and stroking it softly.  
  
"You're my husband. You're supposed to do that." Deliberately obtuse.  
  
"Your husband?" Teasing voice. Seductive smile. "Oh, Eowyn, I thought that I was more than that."  
  
"You did? Since when?" Provocative.  
  
He pretended to think, while his arms encircled her waist, pulling her closer. "I suppose that I should be a gentleman and make some flowery comment about our first meeting. Or the first kiss or something, shouldn't I? But maybe this will remind you." He kissed her.  
  
Eowyn blushed, pulling back. "Well, I mean, you uhmm..." She trailed off.  
  
"You're cute when you babble, my queen." He whispered, leaning closer, pausing a hair's breath away from her lips. "I can't resist you when you do that." Closing the distance, he captured her lips in another kiss that promised to become more.  
  
It ended abruptly when she jerked back in pain. "Honey, it's time." Face pale, her hands trembled.  
  
Aragorn quickly carried her into the house and placed her on the bed. Faramir, who had seen them coming, ran to get the mid-wife. The confident woman arrived with her assistant and shooed him out the door.  
  
"But I can help." He protested, wincing as his wife gasped in pain. Their eyes met across the room, she bravely smiled to show that she would be fine.  
  
"I know. The hands of the king heal." She said, starring him down. "But you are more her husband in this situation, that would be a distraction for you."  
  
The king paced the hallway, his steward watched him. Both men were nervous. "What's taking so long?"  
  
"Patience, sire, babies take time. Your wife will pull through. She's strong."  
  
"Faramir, she barely survived the shadow king. I should be with her."  
  
Faramir moved in front of him, blocking the door. "You'd only distract them. They know what they're doing, they've done it before."  
  
Aragorn resumed pacing the hallway. Another hour passed in tense silence. "I can't lose her."  
  
"She's just a queen, sire. You can always get another." One of his advisors said.  
  
The king glared, missing his sword as his hand reflexively went to his side. "Eowyn is not just a queen. She is *my* queen. Faramir, remove him and keep him out of my sight until further notice." His voice was venomous.  
  
"Yes, majesty." His steward obeyed.  
  
Aragorn watched them go, shoulders tight with anger. It was then that a wail pierced the still night. His baby cried and he smiled, the tension draining away. The mid-wife met him at the door, a tired smile on her face. He caught the look in her eyes, though she tried to turn away.  
  
"You have a son." She said, showing him the baby.  
  
He nodded, tracing the cheek with gentle fingers. "Eowyn?"  
  
"Take the child to his nurse." Wrapping the baby in a blanket, she placed the squirming child into his unresisting arms.  
  
"My wife?" He asked again, refusing to budge. "How is she?"  
  
"The child needs to be tended to, sire." She said, ignoring the question.  
  
"Answer me, woman!" He demanded. "How is my wife?"  
  
"You'll have to leave." She finally told him, glancing back at the bed. "It was too much for her. She's fading fast."  
  
Faramir arrived in time to catch him as he stumbled back. The door closed firmly in their faces once more. The steward took the crying child and reluctantly left his king.  
  
Sinking to his knees, he shook his head, ignorant of the tears on his face. "No. Oh, please, no. Don't take Eowyn from me. Take anything else, take everything else. But please, don't take her." He pleaded, rocking on the ground, arms wrapped around himself.  
  
He was still in that position when Eomer arrived. The king of Rohan stopped, chilled to the bone. In all the time he'd known Aragorn, he'd never seen such a shattered look on his face. "Is she?"  
  
The king ignored him, crying for mercy.  
  
Eomer joined him on the ground, trying to reach him. Finally, frustrated and confused, he slapped him-hard.  
  
Gray eyes blinked at him, surprise in their depths. "Eomer?" The voice sounded far away, as if it was struggling to be heard over the deafening roar in his ears.  
  
"Eowyn? Is she?"  
  
"I'm losing her."  
  
"Why don't you go in there and heal her, like you did before?"  
  
Aragorn shook his head. "I can't."  
  
Eomer was enraged and shook him. "Are you a king or aren't you?"  
  
"What does that have to do with anything?"  
  
"Just answer the question."  
  
"I am." He jerked away, glaring at his brother-in-law.  
  
"Then heal her. It is within your power."  
  
He shook his head. "Don't you understand, Eomer? If I could, I would. But I can't, I already brought her back from the dead. I wasn't supposed to, I just couldn't lose her."  
  
In a whispered voice, Eomer asked. "Are you telling me that you healed her against the dictates of the Valar?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
His eyes closed., despair clouded his features. "Then let us hope he is merciful and gives her back to us."  
  
The room was dark. A figure paced between the bed and the window, restlessly. Hands raked through already mused dark hair. Dropping to his knees by the still bedside, a hand reached for the lifeless one resting there and held it in his, tightly. Sobs tore from his throat as his head dropped onto the coverlet, seeking the warmth of the body there-somehow knowing that it would not be found.  
  
Beyond the door was an odd assortment of people, waiting anxiously for the end to come. But all secretly hoping for a new beginning.  
  
Heavy footsteps sounded down the hall and they recognized Gimli's firm tread. Not surprisingly he was accompanied by the elf prince Legolas. The dwarf was silent as he met the eyes of the assemblage. Clearing his throat, he asked, hesitantly for him. "Is she?"  
  
"Hanging on by a thread." Eomer answered, head resting against the wall. "Aragorn's in there right now."  
  
"Then there is a chance that she'll pull through." Legolas whispered. "Isn't there?"  
  
Eomer's head shook. "No. When he brought Eowyn back after the battle, he did it against the wishes of the Valar."  
  
The elf sunk to his knees, shocked. Gimli's strong arm circled his friend's shoulder, pulling him close.  
  
Faramir sighed and rose, explaining to them. "Let me know if there's any change. I must be about the kingdom's business."  
  
Silence filled the hall once more.  
  
"Won't you wake up now, Eowyn?" A broken voice spoke as a trembling hand pushed at her loose hair restlessly. "I feel so cold. Why did you take your smile from me so soon? But then, an eternity wouldn't be long enough." Words that ended on a choked breath.  
  
The king moved, rising from the ground. In one swift move, the bedside table went flying and crashed into the wall. No movement. Not even a whimper in pain.  
  
Outside they jumped at the sound, exchanging worried looks.  
  
"Why must you leave me?" He asked, weeping. The mirror smashed under the strength of his fist.  
  
The shattering glass caused Legolas to tighten his hold on Gimli's hand. He was aware of everything that went on behind that thick door. It caused the heart in his chest to tighten and weep in sympathy. Gimli wrapped his other arm around him in response to the silent plea of his friend. With all the strength his great heart held, he wished that he could protect Aragorn, and to spare Legolas, from this pain.  
  
The gray eyes looked down at his bleeding hand, surprised to feel the pain there. "I thought that I was beyond feeling anything." Whisper of a voice. He looked back at the bed, a stricken look on his face. "You'd scold me for this, wouldn't you? I remember the first time you did that. There I was, ending some speech in front of the counsel and you come marching into the room and up to me. That brilliant fire was in your eyes and focused on me. You scolded me for forgetting to address the issue of the disposed peoples of our land-I think that was the first time you called Gondor ours, before it was always mine. You ripped into me and shamed me thoroughly. It was a stunningly beautiful, and a bit frightening, sight to see. I don't think those counselors had ever seen anything like it." Choked laughter.  
  
Injured hand forgotten, he pulled the chair next to the bed and reached for her hand again. With a sigh, he squeezed it. "You were always like that, ready to jump in and save someone. Did you know that you saved me from myself? I remember the first time I became truly aware of you, of your power. I entered the hall and saw you practicing, you turned and our swords clashed. There was surprise and determination in your eyes as you wrested your blade away from mine. Never had I dropped my sword in battle, yet I did it in your presence. I hadn't realized that it was just an outside show of my dropping the sword guarding my heart."  
  
Unable to remain in the seat so far from her, he got up and crawled into the bed. After a moment, he pulled her into his arms and held her. Burying his face in her blonde hair, he breathed in the scent of fresh air. Even now, she carried the scent of the outdoors with her. Idly he traced the fragile bones in her hand with his thumb. "I know what you're thinking now, what of Lady Arwen? She was safe, she was something that was not quite real to me. I could pin my hopes on her because-even if she reciprocated them-there was little chance that she and I would ever be together. You were a risk. You had the power to hurt me, even as you had the power to heal me."  
  
Aragorn couldn't speak any more, memories and tears threatened to drown him.  
  
Eowyn frowned as she looked at him. She was floating somewhere between Middle-earth and the lands of the dead.  
  
"Are you sure you can leave him? The two of you seem to be connected." A voice spoke from behind her.  
  
She turned and studied the husky man who stood behind her. "I know you. You're Boromir, Faramir's brother. And loving son of Gondor."  
  
"Not so loving, I betrayed the Fellowship and it scattered because of my actions."  
  
"Have you ever thought that your actions might have saved the lives of the Fellowship?" She asked, turning back to watch Aragorn. "What is that dratted man doing now?"  
  
"What do you mean, my queen?" He asked, joining her. "And, if I had to guess, I'd say he's grieving."  
  
"I mean, nine men entering Mordor would be quite a sight for Sauron. There is no way that all of you would have escaped his notice. But two hobbits, small and relatively unremarkable, he would have passed over." She mused, then she frowned fiercely. "Grieving? That man is ruining our room."  
  
"I never thought of it that way, I was too overwhelmed by the ring's presence and my shame."  
  
Eowyn turned to him, a thoughtful look in her eyes. She had often spoken to Aragorn about this. "Everyone felt the ring's pull and anyone who denies that is a liar. You have redeemed yourself, Boromir of Gondor. Be at peace."  
  
A smile crossed his face. "You sound like him, did you realize that?"  
  
"Hmmm?" She asked, turning away from Aragorn again. "I'm sorry, but what did you say?"  
  
Boromir threw back his head and laughed. "I said go to him, Queen Eowyn. I think he will not survive long without you and Gondor needs him."  
  
"As much as it pains the boss to admit he was wrong, the son of Denethor is right. Aragorn needs you." A voice spoke to them. "Go to him. But everything has a price. You have a son, enjoy him for he is the only child you will be granted."  
  
"But why?"  
  
"It isn't wise to question their decisions, just accept them." Boromir whispered, though he did not like to be referred to as the son of Denethor after what his father had done.  
  
"Listen to the son of Denethor." The being counseled. "As for you, though the queen is right and you have redeemed yourself, there is another task for you to fulfill. The young prince must have a guide, you have been chosen. Do you accept?"  
  
Boromir was surprised and looked between his queen, his king, and the being who awaited his answer patiently. "I do."  
  
"Then come." The two left, Boromir giving her an encouraging look before they disappeared from sight.  
  
Faramir returned. "No change?"  
  
"None." Gimli answered gruffly, having received confirmation from Legolas that nothing was going on in the room. The elf was still held in his strong arms, his face hidden against his chest. It pained him to see his friend so distressed, so hurt and weary.  
  
"The end must be near." Eomer muttered. "It is so quiet in there."  
  
"For her or for him?" Legolas asked, the question muffled by Gimli's broad chest. But the question was hanging in the minds of all, only he had the courage to ask it out loud.  
  
Aragorn opened his eyes, angry with himself. "How could I have fallen asleep with you needing my strength?"  
  
"How could you think that I would not receive that strength better when your guard was dropped then when you are awake?" It was whispered, barely even recognizable as words, but he heard it anyway.  
  
"Eowyn?" He whispered, moving them around so that he could see her. The face was still pale, breathing was hardly there, but the eyes-those eyes that he so loved-were opened. "Thank you for returning her to me, Valar. I will never ask for anything more from you."  
  
"Don't make a vow that you can't keep." Her voice was scratchy and he helped her drink.  
  
"I have you. What more could I want?"  
  
"I went away, you know? I left my body and went somewhere, my uncle and mother were there in this place. Boromir was there. There was no pain, no suffering where I was. But I heard your cries and was drawn back to you. You did that before, after the Shadow King injured me. What is this power you possess over me, Aragorn? Why couldn't I stay away from you? Why did I want to come back here? To this place?"  
  
"I think you know, my heart." Aragorn replied, smiling down at her. "It is love."  
  
"Love?" She questioned, hardly daring to believe.  
  
He nodded, bringing her closer to him. "I would've followed you, you know? As you followed me."  
  
"Indirectly." She yawned and began to close her eyes. His panicked look froze her. "What is it?"  
  
"Don't leave me, not again." He pleaded.  
  
"I am weary and want to sleep, I won't leave."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
Her hand held his, pulling it up to rest against her heart. "I won't leave you again. I love you."  
  
"I love you." His head rested on hers and he pulled her even closer. "And I will be saying those words to you a lot more."  
  
"Good. I think those are words I will never tire of hearing." Her words were slurred as she fell into a healing slumber.  
  
"But remember," he whispered, "I need to hear them from you too."  
  
Legolas suddenly pulled away and jumped up, eyes wide. Unusually for the elf, he made noises as he went to the door and opened it. The other men crowded behind him and were startled by the sight that met their eyes. Resting on the bed, holding onto each other, lay the King and Queen of Gondor. Color was back in her cheeks. She was fine. By mutual consent, they left the two in peace.  
  
"Gentlemen, I think things are going to be just fine." Legolas said, smiling.  
  
"You have such a way with understatement, Master Elf." Gimli grumbled.  
  
With lighter hearts, the company left the hallway and made their way to the dinning hall, suddenly famished. And without a word spoken, all of Gondor knew that their queen was back. Many thanks were said that night for her return.  
  
The End. 


	2. Epilogue

This is a short piece to tie up my story and as a way to say thank you to my generous reviewers.  
  
Epilogue.  
  
Eowyn and Aragorn stood in the great hall, smiling. Their son, Arathorn, was kneeling before them, accepting the sword of state. She looked around and saw Boromir standing over her son's shoulder. Pride shone in his eyes and he winked at her. It was all she could do to keep a straight face at the sight of his obvious amusement.  
  
The newly appointed regent prince stood up and turned to face the assembled guests. Arathorn spoke to them with a deep reverence and great humility. He stood tall and proud like his father, his dark hair worn long around his shoulders. Though people mostly saw the Gondorian side to him, there were hints of his Rohrrim herritage. He was a favorite with the counsel except for one point. Unlike his father's people, he held the Sheild Maidens in high regard and would often be heard suggesting that the women of Gondor be trained as warriors.  
  
Eowyn blinked back the tears that clouded her eyes. Even though he was all grown up, all she could see was her little baby boy. It seemed like only moments before that she held Arathorn in her arms, marveling at his tiny body and its resiliency to childhood blows. She could hear the first words he spoke-dada, clearly see the first time he tottered on his short legs from her to Aragorn. Merry had been there and laughed at the way she tried to let him go and yet keep him back.  
  
"Eowyn?" The king asked. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Just remembering." She murmured, reaching out to hold his hand.  
  
Tugging her hand, the king resolutely pulled her away. She almost protested, but he silenced her with a kiss. "I've shared you with the world long enough. Now it is time for this man to get reacquainted with his wife."  
  
She was torn. It had been so long since it had been just the two of them, what with preparing their son to take over the kingdom and running the kingdom, she missed him. But this was their son's big moment. They should be with him. "Aragorn, we can't."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because our son needs us."  
  
Leaning close, he whispered in her ear. "Our son told me to take you away. He said something about you and me leaving so that he could spread his wings. Sound familiar?" He left out his son's saying that Eowyn looked like she was suffocating and needed out for a bit. She wouldn't thank them for it-though it was obviously true.  
  
A reluctant smile curved her lips at his words. "Vaguely." She teased, evading his arms and moving towards the door.  
  
"Should I remind you?" He asked, following slowly.  
  
With a laugh, she was out the door and gone. For a moment Aragorn stood and stared at the empty doorway, shocked. Shaking his head, he dashed out the hallway after her. It was in the practice room that he saw her, unmoving, staring at the sword on the wall. He watched her shake her head, a smile curving her lips before she reached up and pulled it down.  
  
Closing the door behind him, he made a decision. Moving ever so softly-an ability he never truly lost-he picked up a short sword resting among others. Suddenly she turned and their blades clashed. This time he pushed, ever so slightly and she gave a little ground before pushing back. The two blades flashed in the light as they parried and danced around each other, neither willing to give ground. In a move of sublime subtlety, she forced his sword to drop.  
  
"You've lost your touch, my lord." She mocked.  
  
"Depends upon the touch you refer to, my lady." He winked, rolled and picked the sword up. Quickly, he disarmed her-sending her sword sliding across the floor.  
  
Kneeling down to acknowledge his victory, she ruefully looked up at him. "I constantly underestimate you, don't I?"  
  
The king pulled her to her feet, shaking his head. "As I do you. And now, I demand my spoils of war."  
  
Eowyn tried not to smile but it was hopeless. Aragorn knew just how to say something offensive like that and make it inoffensive. "That's bad."  
  
"But you like it." Lifting her up, he strode out of the room and outside. In the courtyard was Legolas and Gimli, holding the horses for them.  
  
"About time, I was beginning to think you were not going to show up."  
  
With a grin, Aragorn put Eowyn in the saddle and mounted behind her. "My wife needed a little persuading."  
  
"Wife? I thought I was your war prize."  
  
"You were sword fighting again?" Gimli asked, shaking his head. "I don't think I will ever understand your ways."  
  
"Call it a courting ritual." Though it sounded like a joke, it wasn't and they shared a smile.  
  
Eowyn leaned down and whispered, though she knew he could hear her. "Only I let him win this time."  
  
Legolas smacked the horse and sent them off, the second one following them. As much as he liked to see his friends having a good time, he feared that if they didn't leave now, they never would. Together he and Gimli waved at them, before turning to go inside.  
  
Arathorn was waiting for them. "Did they finally go?"  
  
"Aye."  
  
"Good. I love my parents but they really have caged me-and themselves. I wonder why father didn't notice before."  
  
"You'll find, young prince, that sometimes the affairs of state take up a lot of attention." Legolas answered. "Your father has much on his mind and, at times, forgets the important things."  
  
"I guess."  
  
Legolas wisely remained silent.  
  
Outside Gondor:  
  
Eowyn reached up and pulled the pins from her hair, letting it blow freely in the breeze. "So, where are we going?"  
  
"Anywhere that's not here."  
  
"Lost your ranger sense at last or haven't you figured it out?" She teased him gently, trusting his abilities implicitly.  
  
Resting his chin on her shoulder (not an easy thing to do when riding a horse but this is a man raised by elves), he spoke, sending shivers down her back. "Give me a moment to fingure out how far our cage extends, then I'll let you know."  
  
She rested her hands on his, squeezing. "You've felt it to?"  
  
Aragorn knew what she meant. "You lived you whole life like this. How did-and do- you stand it?"  
  
"I can stand anything with you by my side." The words came easily, without a stutter.  
  
They were silent for a long moment, needing no words to speak. Finally, Aragorn pulled their horses to a halt and dismounted. They made camp and ate, talking quietly. After a while, they went to bed and slept. Sometime during the night, Eowyn sat up and looked around, confused. Slowly memory returned to her and she lay back down with a smile, thinking.  
  
Years before this same thing had happened to her. Scared by the enormous changes in her life, she had spent many sleepless nights staring at the moon, trying to think of anything but her life. But the changes remained and had changed to include others. The biggest change centered around the man sleeping peacefully by her side. Now, she couldn't bear to think of her life without him. Somehow, he had become her everything.  
  
It wasn't like I meant to fall in love, she mused. It just crept over me naturally, quieting my fears and cushioning my fall, until I just accepted its presence.  
  
Aragorn shifted and drew her closer, nuzzling her ear. She couldn't stop the giggle that escaped. Bleary gray eyes opened, looking at her curiously. "What are you thinking about, my queen?"  
  
"Odds and ends." She snuggled into his arms, yawning a little bit.  
  
His hand trailed down her arm until it reached her hand and raised it enfolded in his own. "Anything you would care to share with your poor husband?"  
  
"Depends." She hedged.  
  
"On what?"  
  
"What this poor husband plans to give his wife in exchange for her less than intelligent thoughts?"  
  
"Oh, I can think of a few things." He hinted, with a smile. "And I think you should let me be the judge of your thoughts."  
  
"Why? They are my thoughts."  
  
"Very true, but they will be more insightful than the ones I am forced to entertain and debate about in counsel."  
  
She laughed. "I cannot argue with you on that one. Very well, husband, I was thinking about how different my life is from what I had dreamed."  
  
He suddenly tensed, unsure of himself. There was no doubt that Eowyn had grown to love him-the real him. The one behind the mask of king, but he hadn't really given her a chance to experience others. He had been selfish and wanted her for himself. Would what she had to say hurt him? "And?" Soft.  
  
Eowyn turned to face him, stroking his face with gentle fingers. "My life has been happier and fuller than I feel that I deserve. I have a wonderful son. I live in a land of peace and beauty. Most important, I know the love of a good man-one who is more that I thought I could ever have."  
  
There were no words to express the relief and love that flooded his heart at her words, he thought. And to think, I almost let this go. I almost let her go in search of a dream that could never really fill me. "You shame me with your generosity of spirit."  
  
"I?"  
  
"Yes. The peace exists because I truly heard your words about living in a cage, I wanted it for you. I was never really comfortable in my crown, though there were those who encouraged me, until I met you. You inspired me. I became a king, a true king, for you. You have said that I am a good man. If I am, it is because of you. Never doubt that I am the person I am today because of you. Let us hope our son finds a woman who is your equal."  
  
Looking at him, she found it easy to read his soul. Even easier to say the words that rarely crossed her lips. "I love you."  
  
"I love you." Aragorn whispered, drawing her close to his heart.  
  
There was no too at the end. And for some reason, it made a difference in the words.  
  
The End. Mainly because I ran out of fluffy thoughts. 


End file.
